


Christmas Decorating

by StarshipDancer



Category: A Very Potter Musical, Starkid
Genre: M/M, Quirrellmort - Freeform, Quirrelmort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3938284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarshipDancer/pseuds/StarshipDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort hates Christmas. Or, at least that's what he's convinced Quirrell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Decorating

Voldemort made one thing absolutely clear to his partner and (literal) soul mate Quirinus Quirrell: he hated Christmas. He hated the joy and the selflessness and the all-around holiday cheer, and there would not be any decorating of their house under any circumstances.

Quirrell took this the way he took most of their conversations, with a humoring smile and an empathetic nod. He'd never make Voldemort do anything he didn't want to, but he made one thing exceptionally clear to Voldemort in return: he would be getting a present for the holiday, whether he wanted one or not. Voldy definitely didn't argue that notion; he always accepted presents, whether he supported the occasion or not.

Of course, it was all bullshit. Quirrell loved the holidays, and it must have been killing him on the inside to know that his partner hated the very idea of Christmas and refused to subject their home to holiday cheer. He told Quirrell all that so he wouldn't be expecting anything devious. At one point, the professor even called him a  _Grinch,_ whatever the hell that was, but Voldemort took the insult with glee. Even after months of being attached and months of being together, the former Dark Lord still felt a thrill at knowing he could fool his partner.

He waited for the opportune moment to put his well-formulated plan into action. Quirrell chose a cozy Saturday close to Christmas to go out shopping for the holiday, and Voldemort absolutely refused to accompany him.

"All those muggles in one spot might make me ill, then I'd have to miss out on the whole celebration."  _Lay it on a little thicker, Voldemort_. He grinned, shrugging slightly. "Then again, maybe that's not such a bad idea after all…"

"You're hopeless," Quirrell chided him with a shake of his head. "I'll go by myself, thank you. Then I can shop for your present!" His doe eyes lit up, and Voldemort could hardly believe that this adorable man had chosen to spend his life with him.

"Make it something good." Voldemort leaned in for a kiss goodbye before Quirrell went on his merry way, humming Christmas carols. Ugh, now that was something he really  _did_  hate.  _Caroling._ Quirrell had asked him to go listen to carolers earlier that week, and he'd fallen right on his ass in the middle of a patch of ice. Naturally, he blamed the carolers. Damn Muggles.

Now that he had Quirrell out of the house, it was time he got down to work. If those Muggle programs were right, the first thing he needed was a tree. He hadn't seen a Christmas tree properly since his last year at Hogwarts, but he was fairly sure he'd manage all right just by winging it.

He Apparated to the closest vendor selling live trees and examined them all. He might as well go for a real one if he planned on getting a tree at all. Most of them were too thin and had lost all of their needles, but he found a nice full one that would do rather nicely in their living room. Tall, supple, and incredibly green, he rather liked that tree and knew Quirrell would like it just as well. Now how to get it out of the lot..?

Since the man wouldn't quit watching him, Voldemort figured he'd better give him money for the damn tree. Quirrell would be so proud of him, actually paying for something instead of smuggling it out of the yard. Pulling out some of that weird Muggle pocket money Quirrell had given him in case of an emergency, he paid the man and struggled to get the tree to a secluded spot for side-along Apparation.

Now his only problem was getting the damn thing to  _fit_  into the living room. He'd underestimated the size of the tree, and the top of it bent against the ceiling once he stood it up straight. Grumbling, he pulled out his wand and began to shave off parts of the tree. Hack a few branches off there, change the size there…Perfect! He even had room for a little star on top!

Shit, decorations. He hadn't thought about that. Did he even remember how to do magic that didn't involve maiming or seriously injuring? He'd probably need lights for this thing, too. Couldn't he just use candles? No, Quirrell would worry himself to death over candles, and then he'd give Voldemort that boring fire safety lecture again.

Didn't Quirrell keep a box of Muggle decorations in the attic? Maybe he'd find Christmas lights there. He mumbled a simple  _Accio_ to acquire the box and stared at the tree as he tried to determine what else he might be needing to add.

The box landed at his feet, and he opened it up to find piles of ornaments and, thank Wizard God, a long bundle of lights. Voldemort picked it up and started to untangle it, grumbling at the difficulty of a seemingly simple task. Didn't _Muggles_  do this every year? Why was a bloody strand of lights so hard to manage? He'd fought stronger than natural two-year-olds and commanded Death Eaters; hell, he almost single-handedly took down the Ministry of Magic! For Wizard God's sake, he was once the self-proclaimed Dark Lord, and he would  _not_  be outsmarted by a strand of  _Christmas lights_! Frustrated, he pointed his want at the white lights and put them on the tree that way. There! Now it was starting to look a little more festive. Quirrell would be pleased.

Now for decorations. For the bulk of the decorating, he wanted to wait until Quirrell was involved. Give them something to do together, but the tree needed more than just lights. He conjured garland in the colors of Slytherin and Ravenclaw and had the chords drape themselves around the tree in opposite directions, which Voldemort thought looked pretty spiffy indeed.

He'd leave the rest of the tree-decorating for when Quirrell returned home. Time to take care of the rest of the house. Quirrell had some tree garland in the box, so he used that to decorate the door. He created some glimmering tinsel to cover the mantle place, and he added some fake snow to the edges and corners. After a moment's thought, he bewitched the ceiling to sprinkle fake snow that disappeared before it hit the ground. Quirrell loved the snow, after all, and this was supposed to be a big surprise for him.

Voldemort took a deep breath and looked around for something else to decorate. Some little Santa and reindeer figurines got set on the stands and the mantle, and he wrapped more tinsel around anything that wouldn't be moving anytime soon. By the time he was done with the living room, not a single corner didn't glow in some way, and Voldemort was feeling pretty proud of himself.

Now he had to take care of the rest of the house.

By the time Quirrell came home, Voldemort had decorated every spare inch he could find in one way or another. The tables were dripping with fake snow, and the railings and windowsills each had tinsel or garland draped from them. He had just finished adding boughs of holly to the staircase when his partner walked in, and Quirrell's shocked face was priceless.

For a long moment Quirrell didn't say anything, and Voldemort began to worry. Maybe he'd gone a little overboard with the decorating, but it was all for a good cause, he had reasoned to himself all afternoon. Quirrell's eyes wandered from the tinsel to the tree, his eyebrows raising high enough to reach his hairline. Finally, he rested his gaze on Voldemort, who stood in the middle of the gleaming room with an expression of growing panic on his face. At long last, Quirrell set down his bags, and his face broke out into a wide smile.

"I thought you didn't want to decorate for Christmas?" He extended a hand to catch some of the fluttering snowflakes, laughing as it vanished in his palm.

"Do you like it?" Voldemort walked over to wrap his arms around his partner. "I left the ornaments off the tree for us to do together, if you want."

"I'd love that!" Quirrell leaned up, and Voldemort knew that his spontaneous decorating plan had been a success! He let Quirrell carry him away in a sweet, appreciative kiss, one of his favorite kinds of kisses (second only to tear-my-clothes-off-desperate kisses). Then Quirrell pulled away, puzzled, and asked the most serious question of the evening.

"Voldemort, why is there mistletoe  _everywhere_?"

All part of the plan.


End file.
